


Jailhouse Moment

by Celi1208



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Comedy, Desire, F/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celi1208/pseuds/Celi1208
Summary: Celi professes her love for Juice.
Relationships: Juice Ortiz/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Jailhouse Moment

Jailhouse Moment

Celi, Samcro, Gemma and the Croweaters have been in the Charming jailhouse on some bullshit building code violation on the clubhouse. The sound of hyperventilating filled the basement air. After everyone looked around, they found where it was coming from. Celi was in the farthest corner sitting on the floor, forearms on her knees with a shocked look on her face. When Gemma tried to pull her up, she shooed her arm away. Never having seen her like this, she asked softly  
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”  
In between rasps of breathing, Celi said  
“I’ve never been in jail before.”  
Gemma opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it.  
Instead, she pulled nicely curved African-American counterpart up with the bossy force that she possessed naturally. Lost in thought for a second, she said “Sing, Celi. It’ll make you feel better.”  
They all knew she loved to sing, having done various mini-shows at the clubhouse. And she had a great voice. After pacing a little to control her breathing, she started – I was born by the river, in a little tent. Oh, and just like that river I’ve been running ever since…*

In an amount of space where time could not be measured, she sang every  
song she knew. Classic rock, Oldies, Soul, Blues; not surprisingly, the basement had great acoustics. No one else was there besides them and no one complained. Everyone smiled at her. When she finished the current song, they offered suggestions –  
“Elvis!”, said Bobby Elvis.  
“Hendrix!”, yelled Tig.  
“Metal!”, mentioned Half Sack  
But an intense wave of emotion covered her as she found her way to the other end of the cell, gingerly grabbing random bars as she passed. The guys were in the adjoining cells across the hall. She stood directly in front of him; Juice looked up at her. Surprised she moved to where he was. She didn’t know which song she’d sing. It just emerged from her spirit. Lush with emotion and longing. It was an old Mexican Ranchera song about love being the sweetest gift that grew night after night. And how every twilight grew the anticipation at more love that would emerge. He looked at her incredulously with eyes of warm embers. Though he didn’t understand Spanish, he didn’t have to.  
She was singing to him that she was HIS. Chibs, Bobby and the rest had all stepped to the left, allowing him the moment. Juice gripping the bars as if they could melt from his touch. 

“Deja que salga la luna.” – was the last line. She looked at him, exhausted and exhilarated. Everyone cheered and clapped; even the Croweaters (who now knew he was no longer up for selection).  
Hale enters the hall, looking around as if to wonder what the hell just happened. “Okay, all of you are clear but processing is going to take a while.  
In the meantime, one from each side is free to go. Who’s first?”  
“Go, Celi.” Gemma said, nodding toward the door. She turned to her right, surprised to hear her name. Clay was about to step forward when Gemma gave him a glaring look. He looked at Happy and the rest of the guys, who all nodded in agreement. Finally, he said “Juice, go.” He and Celi kept eyes on each other as they passed the bars that felt like they suddenly doubled in quantity. They finally got out and faced each other in the middle of the hall. He grabbed her by the loop of her jeans, bringing her close. Her hands graced his upper arms, dancing at the edges of the kutte. Gemma was right, She learned to love the club. Because she loved Juice. Like she never loved anyone in her life. Their kiss was centimeters away amid the whoops and whistles of everyone. He took her hand, flashed a subsequent amount of pearly sunshine and said “Let’s go.” As they left, Tig yelled out “Don’t get pregnant!” To which they both looked back. Then he said, “I was talking to Juice.”  
(end)

*Note – Cooke, Sam “A Change Is Gonna Come” Ain’t That Good News by RCA Victor, 19643


End file.
